


unwritten

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2019-01-16 21:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Yokoo is more backstory while Fujigaya is pure PWP.





	unwritten

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Take Me Out to the Ballgame](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/329604) by afoolwrites. 



> reposted from agck.

Fujigaya’s cologne infiltrates all the breathable air in the small closet into which Yokoo shoves him. He’s still laughing, the bastard, though the undertones are deep and knowing, like someone who knows someone else’s dirty secrets.

“You are such a _tease_ ,” Yokoo hisses, though saying that to Fujigaya is like saying that the sky is blue.

“That is what I get paid to be, you know,” Fujigaya points out, making no move to step back or even lean out of the way as Yokoo gets into his face. Yokoo doesn’t intend to, actually, the closet is just that small and Yokoo is just that frustrated that he’s not thinking very clearly.

“You get paid to tease the fangirls,” Yokoo says, his voice a little rougher than he’d intended, “not me.”

Despite the near darkness of the room, Yokoo notices Fujigaya’s eyes dilate at the words. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Yokoo’s heart jumps into his throat, because this is about as blatant of an opportunity as he’s ever going to get, and Fujigaya makes it even more obvious with the way he licks his lips. Yokoo’s eyes drop to them, to that mouth he sees nearly every day at work and every night in his dreams, somehow more tempting than all of their slutty photoshoots combined, and the thought of finally tasting them for real has Yokoo’s own lips tingling so strongly that he gasps out loud.

But then Fujigaya laughs and pats Yokoo’s shoulder like they’re not having a moment in a storage closet. “It’s okay. I know you’d never do it in a closet.”

Yokoo blinks at the implication. “I could totally do it in a closet.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Fujigaya argues, but he’s smiling. “It’s too dirty and uncomfortable and I have to dance later and you like to take your time.”

“Well…” Yokoo trails off, feeling his face heat up at the visions that flood behind his eyes. “How do you know I like to take my time?”

“Because I know _you_ ,” Fujigaya answers, his stare turning gentle along with his touch, and Yokoo wonders if this is what it feels like to melt standing up. “If you could write that much without even alluding to anything indecent, I can only imagine how long it takes you to get to it in real life.”

Even though he’d already known Fujigaya had seen the documents on his laptop, actually talking about it seems to break down some kind of fourth wall and leaves Yokoo a little anxious. “I never expected you to read them,” he mumbles.

“Aren’t you glad I did, though?” Fujigaya asks, and his voice is a little quieter now, a little deeper. It flows into Yokoo’s ears and through his nerves, leaving his fingertips sparking when there’s nowhere else for it to go. “Now be the responsible one and kiss me so we can go back to work.”

Yokoo’s fingers are already in the collar of Fujigaya’s shirt before he even finishes speaking, pulling him forward with more force than he’d intended. It serves the purpose, though, because then those lips are on his and both of Fujigaya’s arms are wrapping around his neck, tilting his head and kissing back before Yokoo really even gets started.

It’s probably the first time Yokoo’s ever kissed someone the same height as him, which is a relief for his neck as well as a better angle to cover every square centimeter of Fujigaya’s lips. His hands drop to Fujigaya’s waist and Fujigaya leans into him, meeting him kiss for kiss as they just press their lips together over and over again.

Yokoo’s out of breath by the time they pull apart, though they don’t go very far as Fujigaya’s body remains warm against his with equally as warm breath on his face.

“That is probably the hottest closed-mouth kiss I’ve ever had,” Fujigaya whispers, sounding just as breathless, and Yokoo shivers as he feels Fujigaya’s fingers on the back of his neck, tracing along his hairline.

“Stay over tonight,” he finds himself saying, only a little embarrassed after the fact at being so forward.

Fujigaya just lifts his eyes to Yokoo’s and offers a promising smirk. “Only if I get more than closed-mouth kissing.”

That is quite possibly the easiest thing for Yokoo to agree to, though he’s rather reluctant to wait as Fujigaya pulls back his arms and fixes the collar of his shirt. Yokoo watches him closely, not bothering to hide it now that Fujigaya knows everything, and Fujigaya flashes him a dirty smile when he notices him looking.

“I knew you wouldn’t do it in a closet,” Fujigaya says, laughing as Yokoo narrows his eyes, and something surges inside him when Fujigaya brushes past him on his way out.

If anyone notices anything out of the ordinary when they return to the dressing room, they don’t let it be known. As Fujigaya flops onto Yokoo’s shoulder after a particularly rough choreography session, he realizes it’s because nothing _is_ out of the ordinary. He and Fujigaya are usually inseparable, standing close together or lying on each other, only now there’s something more behind it and it’s kind of thrilling to feel like this in front of their unsuspecting bandmates.

“Wanna hear me tell a story?” Fujigaya whispers, so quietly that Yokoo can barely hear him even though he’s speaking right into Yokoo’s ear, and Yokoo nods before he realizes what a bad idea this is. “We play for the same team this time, only we’re the only ones in the locker room after a game and I’m watching you in the shower, admiring the way you run the soap all over your body while the water washes it away.”

Yokoo inhales sharply, fisting the couch cushion on the side that Fujigaya’s not draped on. “You sure don’t waste any time getting to it,” he mumbles.

“I’m not really into building up suspense,” Fujigaya says, then jumps right back into his narration. “I come up behind you and you jump, but I catch the soap before it falls and pick up where you left off, paying special attention to everywhere that makes you twitch and moan.”

“You are entirely too good at this,” Yokoo says, masking his sharp arch with a yawn like he’s stretching. Not only is Fujigaya’s breath tickling his ear, but his words are going straight into Yokoo’s pants and he’s going to have a problem dancing if this keeps up.

“Yeah?” Fujigaya asks, like he honestly has no idea what he’s doing to Yokoo just with his voice, and Yokoo gives a little nod. “I’d much rather do it for real, though. I could sit here and tell you how I’d get on my knees and take your cock into my mouth, but wouldn’t it be better to just show you?”

“Get a room, you two,” Kitayama barks from the doorway, and Yokoo glares at him under heavy eyelids as his nerves still singe with the promise of Fujigaya’s filthy mouth around him.

“You just want to sleep on this couch,” Fujigaya says, and Kitayama shrugs as he unceremoniously flops down onto Yokoo’s other side, nestling his head in Yokoo’s lap.

Yokoo’s eyes widen as Kitayama gets dangerously close to where Yokoo’s starting to get interested, and he knows Fujigaya notices too because the chuckle in his ear is borderline evil.

“I have no problem going on,” Fujigaya threatens, and Yokoo shoves Kitayama’s head closer to his knees under the pretense of combing fingers through his hair. “But he would probably want to be included.”

Kitayama’s snore seems to refute this accusation, and both Yokoo and Fujigaya laugh as Yokoo calms down, feeling like the group pillow when Fujigaya rests his head on Yokoo’s shoulder and curls up next to him. He almost expects Nikaido to plop on the floor and lean against his knees, but that one seems preoccupied chatting with Miyata while Senga and Tamamori help each other stretch.

All too soon the break is over, and it feels like forever before they’re packing up to go home—or, in Fujigaya’s case, to Yokoo’s home. Yokoo’s nerves start racing the second Fujigaya approaches him, bounding up to him like an overgrown puppy and giving him a look that purely says he hasn’t forgotten why he’s staying over tonight. Nobody bats an eyelash at the pair of them leaving together, which has Yokoo feeling even naughtier because now he _and_ Fujigaya are keeping a dirty secret. _Together_.

Except that Fujigaya slips his hand into Yokoo’s coat pocket on the train and Yokoo feels incredibly warm for such a cold night. The train is crowded enough to conceal them, their fingers lacing together and Yokoo can feel how frozen Fujigaya’s are even though his gloves. It doesn’t last very long, though, a soft sigh sounding from Fujigaya as Yokoo warms up his hand, and when Yokoo catches his eye over the small salaryman in front of them, there’s nothing dirty about it.

They walk to Yokoo’s building from the train station in comfortable silence, walking side by side with Fujigaya’s hands in his own pockets, and Yokoo takes a deep breath as he unlocks his front door, preparing himself for what will happen on the other side.

His first thought is that Fujigaya isn’t nearly as aggressive as he’d expected, but that’s as far as he gets in his assessment as Fujigaya pulls him close and kisses him before the door even closes behind them. It’s slow and intense, both the kissing and the way Fujigaya unbuttons Yokoo’s coat and unwraps the scarf without pulling away. Fujigaya gently pushes the coat off of Yokoo’s shoulders and Yokoo shrugs it off completely, blindly finding his coat rack before his own hands fumble on the buttons and zipper of Fujigaya’s coat. His wrists are seized by Fujigaya’s hands, which peel off the gloves that Yokoo had forgotten were still on, and now it’s much easier to get Fujigaya out of his coat.

He’s moving so much faster than Fujigaya, something he would have never expected until it happened, but Fujigaya doesn’t seem to mind as he helpfully lifts his arms for Yokoo to pull his T-shirt over his head. In the brief second they’re apart, Yokoo realizes he hadn’t even noticed that he’d continued undressing Fujigaya, though he’s very aware when Fujigaya’s tongue flicks between his lips upon the return to his mouth because he feels it in every nerve of his body.

Fujigaya’s hands feel cold on his skin, but it’s more likely that Yokoo’s skin is just burning as Fujigaya’s fingers slip under his shirt. He doesn’t take it off right away, just slides his palms up Yokoo’s ribs until he can thumb at Yokoo’s nipples, which has Yokoo gasping and kissing him harder. “Mm, you like that.”

“Obviously,” Yokoo replies, and Fujigaya laughs a little as he pulls back long enough to yank Yokoo’s shirt over his head. He barely brushes his lips against Yokoo’s afterward, teasing Yokoo enough to make him take over, a soft moan sounding from Fujigaya’s throat as Yokoo devours him like they’re on a deadline.

Fujigaya lets him, and Yokoo can tell that his patience is wearing thin with the heated way he kisses back, the strength with which he clutches onto Yokoo’s bare back and how sharply he shudders when Yokoo’s hands explore his torso. If Yokoo were judging based on reaction, Fujigaya’s sensitive spots are _everywhere_ , though pinching his nipples pulls a beautiful noise from his lungs.

“You wanna take a shower?” Fujigaya asks between kisses, his voice deeper than Yokoo’s ever heard it, and Yokoo’s already being maneuvered down his own hallway before he notices he’s nodding.

Once in the bathroom, Yokoo reluctantly turns to spin the faucets, but Fujigaya doesn’t let him get very far. He loops an arm around Yokoo’s waist and uses his other hand to push Yokoo’s hair off of the back of his neck, where Fujigaya’s mouth presses wet kisses and sucks gently enough to drive Yokoo crazy. It takes entirely too long for the water to get hot, but Fujigaya utilizes this time unfastening Yokoo’s pants and purposely avoiding the tent in his boxers as he pushes them down.

Yokoo’s so turned on that he nearly loses his balance as he peels off his socks, but Fujigaya is there to hold him steady, guiding Yokoo into the tub and under the spray. The water is warm enough now, but Yokoo feels strangely cold once their contact is broken, at least until he turns to face Fujigaya and finds him lowering the zipper of his own pants, looking up at Yokoo from under his bangs with dark, dark eyes that have never before been captured by a camera, all for Yokoo.

Fujigaya’s cock is hard when he pushes down the rest of his clothes, seeming to make a show out of it as he takes his time stepping out of them. For someone who gets right to the point in his “stories,” he sure doesn’t have any problem dragging this out, though Yokoo isn’t too keen for him to rush once Fujigaya wraps his fingers around himself. He squeezes just enough to make his breath hitch while his eyes don’t move from Yokoo’s, not averting his stare even when he moves his hand up and down in one fluid stroke.

“You just gonna stand there and do that?” Yokoo asks, his own cock begging to be touched like that, even twitching with Fujigaya when the latter thumbs the head.

“I could,” Fujigaya replies, followed by a moan so filthy that Yokoo can’t stop his hand from repeating the motion, only he damn near loses his breath when he finally makes contact with his length. “Especially if you do it, too.”

Yokoo squeezes himself again and throws his head back from the pressure, getting a face full of water in the process. Fujigaya’s biting his lip when Yokoo wipes his eyes enough to see, watching Fujigaya’s chest rise and fall with the force of his breaths as he keeps touching himself excruciatingly slowly.

“Mm,” Fujigaya says, the noise going straight to Yokoo’s cock. “Don’t you want me to come in there with you?”

“Fuck yes I do,” Yokoo answers, though he makes no move to stop what he’s doing. He doesn’t actually think he can, because it feels so good, his hand remaining even after Fujigaya steps into the shower. He’s so close but so far away, the water dampening his hair into his eyes until he pushes it back. It’s longer now, curling at the base of his neck, and just the sight of it has Yokoo moving faster, to the point where he’s groaning low in his throat and trembling a little from the need that builds within him.

Which just means that he near squeaks when Fujigaya grabs both of his wrists, effectively halting his efforts, and Yokoo’s narrowed eyes are met with Fujigaya’s knowing smirk. “Isn’t it ironic that you’re the one who likes all the buildup in your writing but can’t keep your hands off of yourself during the real thing?”

“This and that are completely different,” Yokoo argues, his voice coming out as a growl, and Fujigaya’s eyes shine with lust. “Touch me, Taisuke.”

“Barking orders now,” Fujigaya says, a hint of amusement mixed in with all the sex dripping from his voice. “Turn around and let me wash your hair.”

“What—” Yokoo starts, but then he’s pushed out of the stream of water as Fujigaya scrubs his head with shampoo. It actually feels really nice, though not as nice as if he’d picked up where Yokoo had been forced to leave off. Fujigaya pulls him back under the spray again to rinse, threading his fingers through Yokoo’s hair to make sure he gets it all, then repeats the process with conditioner.

Yokoo’s still a bit dazed from the impromptu head massages when he feels Fujigaya pressing against his back, the hard cock digging into the cleft of his ass quickly bringing him back to reality. “Taisuke…”

“You want to be clean, don’t you?” Fujigaya whispers in his ear, following his words with his tongue and Yokoo almost loses his balance from the force of the shiver that surges up his spine.

“I don’t fucking care about that right now,” Yokoo gets out, arching at the lightest touch of Fujigaya’s fingers down his arms.

“You say that, but…” Fujigaya trails off as he reaches for the soap and a washcloth. Yokoo whines at the first touch of the rough material on his chest and Fujigaya’s next words are laced with a chuckle. “I had no idea you’d be so desperate for it.”

“It’s you,” Yokoo says, rocking back against Fujigaya to give him a taste of his own medicine. “It’s always been you.”

“That’s so sweet,” Fujigaya says, sounding both surprised and teasing as his washing turns into a hug. Yokoo settles into his embrace, filled by a warmth that has nothing to do with the water. “I like you, too.”

The confession has Yokoo calming down considerably, but his body is even more sensitive than before, jerking at nearly every touch of the washcloth. He bites his lip and endures it as Fujigaya cleans his chest and arms, throat and back, but he can’t hold back his noises when Fujigaya kneels down to reach his thighs.

“Look at me,” Fujigaya says, and Yokoo forces his eyes open as his head rolls forward. Fujigaya on his knees before him is quite a sight, his hair completely wet and dripping while he looks up at Yokoo like he’s down there for another reason. “You look so good like this.”

“Yeah?” Yokoo asks, reaching down to cup Fujigaya’s face, thumbing his lips on instinct.

Fujigaya just nods, then sucks Yokoo’s thumb into his mouth without taking his eyes off of him, and Yokoo’s breath hitches so much that it almost runs away from him. Fujigaya flicks the pad of Yokoo’s thumb with his tongue and Yokoo feels it on his cock, which twitches quite noticeably in front of Fujigaya’s face. Fujigaya’s eyes cut over to it, then sucks more pointedly on Yokoo’s thumb before meeting Yokoo’s stare again.

“Please,” Yokoo whispers, reaching down his other hand to push Fujigaya’s wet hair out of his face. “Please, Taisuke, I know you like hearing me beg.”

Fujigaya lets Yokoo’s thumb fall from his lips, running his tongue along the bottom one before replying, “I do.”

“I will beg all you want,” Yokoo pants. “Please just do that on me.”

“I think,” Fujigaya says slowly, continuing to wash Yokoo’s legs as he scoots right between them, “I’d rather hear you moan my name.”

And then he’s leaning in to suck Yokoo’s cock past his lips, tonguing the head before taking in more. Yokoo lets out a cry that probably should have been muffled a little, but hopefully the water helps mask the noise so that his neighbors don’t think he’s being murdered or something. Though he would be hard-pressed to actually stop to address them even if they banged down his door with the entire Tokyo police force because Fujigaya’s effortlessly sucking him in and out, using his tongue everywhere he can reach.

“Taisuke, yes,” Yokoo gasps. “Just like that, oh my god.”

Fujigaya preens as he keeps moving forward until the head hits the back of his throat and Yokoo’s words turn incoherent. Fujigaya swallows around him, pulling a long moan from Yokoo as Yokoo twists his fingers into Fujigaya’s hair for something to hold onto. It’s slow but deep, so deep, garbled versions of Fujigaya’s name escaping Yokoo’s lips as he tries to remain conscious enough to stand upright.

“Taisuke, please,” he finally begs, completely shamelessly, unable to stop his hips from rocking forward into Fujigaya’s mouth. “Just a little more, I’m so close.”

He honestly didn’t think Fujigaya would let him finish like this, but the night is still young and so is Yokoo, whose noises escalate along with Fujigaya’s speed until he tightens his grip on Fujigaya’s hair in warning and comes down his throat. Yokoo’s entire body is shaking and he doesn’t quite know which way is up, but that’s okay because Fujigaya’s back on his feet and hooking an arm around Yokoo’s thin waist to keep him steady.

“You taste good,” Fujigaya mumbles into Yokoo’s neck, and Yokoo uses the last of his energy to turn his head and find out for himself. Fujigaya’s kiss is entirely too fast for Yokoo to keep up, though Yokoo is very aware of why that is as Fujigaya’s erection digs into his hip. Yokoo starts to reach for it, but Fujigaya seizes his hand and gives him another washcloth instead. “Don’t you want me clean, too?”

“Whatever,” Yokoo replies, lazily lifting the cloth to Fujigaya’s chest. Fujigaya makes a noise of contentment as Yokoo washes him, more slowly than he would normally but just as precisely. Fujigaya leans in to mouth Yokoo’s neck while Yokoo washes his hair and it feels nice, sending little aftershocks throughout Yokoo’s body while Fujigaya trembles in his arms.

As he gains back his coherency, Yokoo gets bolder in his touches and brings his hand between Fujigaya’s legs, feeling a bit of vindication in the way Fujigaya gasps and moans at the rough material on his sensitive parts. Yokoo belatedly realizes that this is the first time he’s touched Fujigaya like this, shifting the washcloth to his other hand so that he can coil his fingers around Fujigaya’s cock directly.

“Wataru,” Fujigaya breathes, and it’s such a beautiful sound that Yokoo wants to hear it again. And again. He tightens his grip and flicks his wrist, pulling an even more enticing noise from Fujigaya’s throat, which Yokoo feels pressed just under his jaw. “Touch me inside, too.”

“Taisuke,” Yokoo gasps, a bit incredulously even as he lifts one of Fujigaya’s legs up to his waist. “I don’t have anything in here.”

“If it’s just your fingers, soap is okay,” Fujigaya says in this low, husky voice that makes it sound sexier than it should.

“That’s not very—” Yokoo starts, but he’s already reaching for the bar.

“I’ve had much worse,” Fujigaya cuts him off. “You won’t hurt me, I promise. I just really want to feel your fingers inside me. They’re so long, I bet you can touch me really deep.”

“Your fucking mouth,” Yokoo mutters, his hands shaking a little as he runs two of his fingers along the soap bar. Fujigaya’s not getting any more than that, at least until they get proper lubrication.

“You love my fucking mouth,” Fujigaya replies, and Yokoo’s content to agree when he brushes over Fujigaya’s rim and Fujigaya lets out this obscene noise, his body pushing back in search of more.

“Now who’s desperate?” Yokoo teases, but Fujigaya doesn’t disagree as Yokoo lightly circles the tight ring of muscle that keeps contracting from the pads of his fingers. “Mm, let me in.”

“Wataru, please,” Fujigaya whimpers, hands grasping either side of Yokoo’s face to pull him into a kiss, and Yokoo’s middle finger pushes right past the resistance of Fujigaya’s body, pulling a long, deep groan from Fujigaya’s lungs that dies on Yokoo’s tongue.

Yokoo just kisses him harder, stretching him enough to slip in his forefinger, and Fujigaya’s shuddering with every touch. Yokoo brings his other hand back to Fujigaya’s cock and strokes him slowly, drinking down the noises Fujigaya emits as he rocks back and forth between Yokoo’s hands. He pushes back particularly sharply and Yokoo recognizes what he feels a split second before Fujigaya cries out into his mouth, maintaining a soft pressure as Fujigaya starts to fall apart in his arms.

“Right there?” he asks, and Fujigaya falls from his mouth with a nod. He presses his face into Yokoo’s neck instead, chilling the wet skin with his quick breaths as Yokoo fingers him with one hand and pulls him off with the other, groaning a little at how tight he gets with each passing second. “Come for me, Taisuke.”

Like he’d been waiting for the command, Fujigaya’s body lurches and Yokoo feels the warm release flow over his fingers and onto his chest, warmer than the water that’s starting to cool after running for so long. Fujigaya’s so tight that Yokoo can barely pull his fingers out, his own cock twitching at the thought of feeling that around him despite having absolutely no interest in finding out at this moment in time.

“Oh my god,” Fujigaya breaths, and now Yokoo’s the one holding him up as he reaches for the washcloth to clean them up. “I love your fingers.”

“I love _you_ ,” Yokoo replies, the words just slipping out as he washes his own stomach, and he realizes it three seconds too late when Fujigaya pulls him into a lazy kiss. Tongues chase each other with no urgency, not just a prelude to everything else but as an act all of its own, though Yokoo feels little prickles of arousal when Fujigaya’s arms return to his neck, fingers sifting through the hair closest to his nape.

“We should get out,” Fujigaya finally says, though he’s not quick to stop kissing Yokoo or pull away from where they’re pressed together under the spray. “The water is cold and I don’t want to stand up anymore.”

Yokoo starts to call him a whiny brat, but then Fujigaya brings his hands down Yokoo’s back and Yokoo would much rather Fujigaya touch him instead. Toweling off takes about three times as long since they refuse to part mouths long enough to watch what they’re doing, and certain areas are still too sensitive for toweling. Eventually they’re dry enough to keep from dripping on Yokoo’s bathroom floor, though he ties towels around both of their heads just in case.

They don’t bother getting dressed and stumble across the hall to Yokoo’s bedroom, where Yokoo pulls down his covers and gestures for Fujigaya to get in first, then follows with his own body. Fujigaya instantly curls up to him, warm breath on his collarbone as an arm flings around his waist and their legs entwine, and Yokoo presses his lips to Fujigaya’s forehead right under where the towel is tied.

“Sleepy?” he asks.

“Not at all,” Fujigaya replies, and Yokoo laughs. “I’m just enjoying being close to you.”

“Never pegged you as a sap,” Yokoo teases, and Fujigaya shoves at him with no strength.

“You’re the one writing romantic stories about us,” Fujigaya chides.

“I never got to the romance part,” Yokoo points out, then sighs. “I couldn’t bring myself to admit that, you know, I felt that way about you.”

“It was obviously heading there, though,” Fujigaya says, and Yokoo can’t argue with that. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it now, anyway. Since I already know how you feel.”

“I don’t need to now,” Yokoo tells him, and Fujigaya leans back enough to look up at Yokoo’s face. “It’s already happened.”

Fujigaya frowns at him. “You could still write something. Write about us going on a date or something, in a universe where we don’t have to hide who we are from everyone. You know, something we can’t do in real life.”

“I can take you on a date, Taisuke,” Yokoo says, his heart warming at the idea. “We just have to stop touching each other long enough to go out in public.”

Laughing, Fujigaya stretches out onto his back and glances towards Yokoo with an inviting look on his face. “Then I should touch you even more to get it out of my system, right?”

“Yes,” Yokoo tells him, willing to support any special breed of logic that results in Fujigaya’s hands on his body. “That’s exactly what you should do.”

He’d expected Fujigaya to reach for him, but not yank on his arm and pull him completely on top of him. It’s not a bad place to be, though, Yokoo’s body covering Fujigaya’s as he settles in place. Yokoo’s towel turban had become a casualty in the manhandling, but Fujigaya has no problem pushing Yokoo’s damp hair out of his face as he leans up for a kiss.

Yokoo knows where this is going and should probably get the essentials from his drawer before they get too indisposed, but Fujigaya’s mouth is just so enticing that he can’t quite break away. Their kissing is still slow and lazy, though with an underlying layer of arousal as Fujigaya runs his hands up and down Yokoo’s back and Yokoo’s body quickly recovers. He knows Fujigaya can feel him getting hard because he hums against Yokoo’s lips, shifting a little to place Yokoo’s cock against his own, which is waking up as well.

“Wataru,” Fujigaya breathes, and Yokoo grunts his acknowledgement without leaving Fujigaya’s mouth. “Will you go inside me?”

Yokoo may have anticipated this, but hearing the question still sends a shiver up his spine. “Yes, of course,” he answers, extending his arm to the side in hopes that they were close enough to the edge of the bed for him to reach his drawer, but he’s not that lucky.

His huff of frustration has Fujigaya laughing, pushing him away with a gentle shove so that he has to crawl the rest of the way toward his nightstand, where he retrieves his tube of lubrication and a couple condoms in case Fujigaya wants to go again. Fujigaya’s body feels much warmer when Yokoo returns to it, placing the items next to them and descending upon Fujigaya’s mouth that welcomes him back eagerly.

His hands roam all over Fujigaya’s torso, feeling the goosebumps that form from his touch and swallowing the beautiful noises Fujigaya makes. His finger snags a nipple and Fujigaya arches with a moan, falling out of their kiss and leaving Yokoo with his throat to kiss and suck on. He’s coating his fingers with lube as he continues down, licking Fujigaya’s nipples and making him arch even more when he gently spreads Fujigaya’s thighs and slips a finger inside him. He’s still stretched enough from the shower to add another, quickly finding that spot again and reveling in the way Fujigaya squirms and cries out on his bed solely from his efforts.

“Wataru,” Fujigaya says again, a low moan, and Yokoo continues downward to suck on Fujigaya’s cock long enough to ease in a third finger. He’s barely up to Fujigaya’s stomach before Fujigaya reaches down with both hands, pulling him up by his shoulders and kissing him so hard that Yokoo’s fingers follow suit, moving quick and deep as Fujigaya pushes back against him and whimpers into his mouth.

Reluctantly Yokoo pulls away, licking his lips as he takes in Fujigaya’s flushed face and swollen lips, hooded eyes and wild hair sprawled out on Yokoo’s pillow where it is probably going to dry that way. He’s breathing so hard that his Adam’s apple is moving up and down very fast, and Yokoo leans down to very gently press a kiss to it to calm him down.

“Do it,” Fujigaya says, his voice tickling Yokoo’s lips. “Do _me_.”

Yokoo spreads his fingers apart to make sure Fujigaya’s ready, which Fujigaya proves when the motion has him tossing his head back and moaning even louder. Yokoo’s not worried about his neighbors anymore, because at least these noises sound exactly like what they are and if anything he’ll just have some awkward run-ins at the mailboxes for a while. It’ll all be worth it to hear those moans from Fujigaya, which fade when Yokoo pulls out to roll a condom on, giving himself a quick slab of lube before kneeling between Fujigaya’s spread legs.

“Come down here,” Fujigaya says, once again wrapping his arms around Yokoo’s neck as Yokoo does exactly that, pushing into Fujigaya in the process. His groans die on Fujigaya’s tongue as Fujigaya takes him all the way in, his muscles doing wonderful things to Yokoo’s cock as he gets used to it. Yokoo’s not that thick but long enough to touch Fujigaya pretty deep, just like his fingers, and Fujigaya’s already rocking back against him by his second thrust.

“So good,” Yokoo gasps, one of his hands tangling in Fujigaya’s hair while the other pinches a nipple. “You feel so good.”

“So do you,” Fujigaya replies. His voice is laden with breaths and Yokoo’s fairly certain that this is the extent of his words for a while, particularly when Yokoo starts moving faster and pulling really deep, guttural noises from him. Those are his favorite, Yokoo decides, snapping his hips harder to hear more of them, his own breaths laced with moans as Fujigaya’s body squeezes him in response.

Yokoo reaches down to lift Fujigaya’s hips, changing the angle a bit and Yokoo feels the head of his cock brush that spot, leaning down to cover Fujigaya’s mouth and muffle what feels like a scream as Fujigaya’s entire body jerks beneath him. Yokoo keeps them both right where they are and keeps hitting Fujigaya where he wants it, moaning along with Fujigaya when the latter tosses his head back and arches from the pressure.

“Do you want to come?” Yokoo asks, not recognizing his own voice as Fujigaya nods hard enough to muss up his hair even more. “Are you sure? I could go for longer.”

“You can keep going,” Fujigaya gets out, using what looks like a lot of effort to make words. “Just get me off, please.”

“Do it yourself,” Yokoo says, latching his mouth onto Fujigaya’s throat as Fujigaya immediately reaches between them to grab hold of his cock. “Mm, you’re so tight.”

“Don’t stop,” Fujigaya gasps, and Yokoo keeps slamming into him as his fist flies up and down himself. “I’m close.”

Yokoo opens his mouth to speak, but he catches his teeth on Fujigaya’s throat and Fujigaya shudders beneath him, warm drops hitting Yokoo’s chest as he comes with a shrill call of Yokoo’s first name. It sounds so nice that Yokoo moves faster, using more force to push through the increased suffocation of Fujigaya’s body, and Fujigaya keeps gasping with each thrust even after he calms down.

“Still feel good?” Yokoo asks, and Fujigaya nods. “Good, because I’m not done.”

He leans down to kiss Fujigaya, rocking into him like it’s second nature and tasting the noises on his tongue. Fujigaya’s arms embrace him and hold him tight, surrounding Yokoo with comfort and love as he gradually approaches orgasm. He’s in no rush, all concept of time disappearing from his mind as all he knows is Fujigaya and how he feels. When he does finish, it happens so suddenly that Yokoo can’t even build up to it, just clutch onto Fujigaya’s shoulders and moan his first name, shaking even after he’s stopped moving.

“Mm,” Fujigaya says, only wincing a little as he lowers his legs and takes Yokoo in his arms. “I could certainly get used to that.”

Yokoo makes a face as he feels Fujigaya’s release between their chests. Once again he tries to stretch for the nightstand but he’s still not close enough, Fujigaya laughing at his attempt because he knows exactly why. Yokoo ends up rolling onto his back, which gives him just enough access to the tissues and Fujigaya just watches him as he cleans them up.

The second Yokoo is done, Fujigaya’s pouncing him, lying on top of him like a big cat, and Yokoo decides not to tell him how ridiculous his hair is right now as he cups Fujigaya’s face and brings him down for a kiss.

“End story,” Fujigaya says with a grin when they come up for air, but Yokoo shakes his head.

“This story is just beginning.”


End file.
